Even through the crowd of people between us in the hotel lobby, I catch
sight of him almost immediately. Perhaps itís fate. Perhaps
not. I feel my breath leave me, exhaled in my shock at seeing a
reminder of a past Iím not ready to face.

Perhaps inevitably, he has seen me too. He hesitates, then with
a look of resolve makes his way through the throng toward me. So
much easier if he would have just turned away. But the Ranma Saotome
I knew was no coward, and itís clear that the passage of half a decade
hasnít changed that.

He reaches me and gives me greeting. Were things other than they
are, I might be amused at his uncertainty. He is clearly unsure
of what tone to adopt, struggling between formal and familiar, coming
to rest at last with the former. Were I not so far off balance,
I might perhaps be amused to see Ranma has learned at least some personal
skills since last we parted ways.

I take a deep breath, and gather what I can of my composure, and return
his greeting. However, I deliberately adopt a more familiar tone.
Not the one I was wont to use in addressing him, nothing that could give
him the impression that I plan to return things to that level. My
words are chosen for a different purpose, and I wonder if Ranma is perceptive
enough now to understand.

Apparently he is. He gives me a searching look, then some of the
tension leaves him. He asks quietly, "Did you find what you
were looking for?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak just then. He dares to give
me a slight smile, then actually suggests we repair to the veranda and
get drinks.

I agree to this. The shock has begun to wear off, and though seeing
him is still painful, I am beginning to feel alive. More alive than
I have in years. I suppose there are some pasts with which you can
never cut ties completely.

We seat ourselves at a table, with a bright, festive umbrella overhead.
Conversation flags until the drinks have arrived. Then, in typical
Ranma fashion, my companion cuts straight to the heart of the matter.
"Howíd you finally manage to get cured the rest of the way?"

I tell him. How, after years of searching, and expense enough to
strain even my familyís resources, four months back I finally discovered
a site in the Appalachian mountains in America. A place where four
ley lines intersected, where a meteorite strike had disrupted that junction,
leaving a powerful field that obliterates any magic that enters.
I swallow, and tell him that if he seeks a cure to his curse, he could
find it there. Speaking of his curse is still difficult for me…
I yet retain some of my resentment, at not having been told the truth
for so long. That he himself never managed to tell me, leaving me
to find out so much later, and by accident at that.

"Thanks, but I donít need it any longer," he answers.
"I found a way to block the effect. Now I can even tap the
stored-up magic and do stuff with it." He gestures, and the
smooth iron armrest of his chair blooms into a rose. He smiles,
then asks the question I wanted to ask him. "Whatíre you doing
in the Amazon rain forest?"

"I… I just wanted to see it. Not to take anything from it,
not to study it, not even to fight for it," I answer. "I
hoped I might find some peace here."

"Peace?" he asks, though looking into his eyes I suspect he
understands at least partly why I might now be searching for such.
"Finding the cure didnít give you that, huh?"

I smile bitterly. "The last vestiges of my ancestral curse
were removed. I am insane no longer. That doesnít make the
memories of the years in which I was any less painful."

"No, I guess it wouldnít," he admits quietly. "But
maybe you ought to think about cominí back to Nerima. Things arenít
nearly as bad there anymore. Might be what you need to get over
the past."

Shaking my head, I give him an incredulous look. "I do not
ever intend to return. How could I? Everyone and everything
there is a reminder of the… the despicable THING I once was!"

He frowns. "Hold on, there." Another long, searching
look. I feel a slight buzzing, though it wonít be until much later
that I learn one of Ranmaís new tricks allows him to read a personís surface
thoughts. At last, he sighs and says, "So youíre just gonna
change one prison for another? Is that it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You hate yourself now. I can see it," he says quietly.
"You got rid of one set of chains, and slapped another on yourself
as soon as you were free. Aní this time, nobody can get you loose
except you. Youíre making a mistake."

"A mistake?" I ask bitterly. "A mistake, to depise
myself for what I once was? For how I once acted?" Bitter
bile rises in my throat. "For how I treated you?"

"Yeah. Thatís right. Itís a mistake. The person
who did all that is dead, died in the mountains in America. YOU
were born five years ago, back when we first learned about the Kuno clan
curse and managed to weaken it. You got no right to hate yourself
for something someone else did."

"Really," I say, my tone making it clear that Iím not accepting
this.

"Yeah. Really." He gives an exasperated sigh.
"Listen, even back in Nerima, before we found out about your familyís
curse, even then I didnít hate you. You made me angry, sometimes
scared me, but that was all." He fixes me with an intense stare.
"So I can say you got no right to hate yourself."

Hearing that does make a difference. I can feel something shift
inside me, though Iím not sure yet to just what effect. Still, itís
not that easy to simply let go. "Ranma, for most of the last
five years Iíve had to constantly fight off that old person, had to maintain
constant vigilance lest the suppressed curse break forth in me again.
Those memories too are bitter, bitter to the core. I cannot just
walk away from them."

He shrugs. "I know. But right now you got the chance
to make a fresh start. Donít waste it by lookiní at the past all
the time. Because the past is there for us to look at and learn
from our mistakes, but then we move on."

"Quite a bit more insightful than I would have expected from you,
Ranma," I admit.

"Well, even a guy like me can learn a bit in five years," he
replies. "Listen, thereís somebody I think you need to talk
to." He pulls out a cell phone and places a call. "Honey?
Iím out on the veranda. Thereís somebody I want you to come see…
No, itís a surprise… Okay, bye."

Truth be told, the wedding ring on his finger was almost the first thing
I noticed about Ranma, but I had not felt equal to bringing the subject
up. Still, the issue has now been forced, so I gulp, and say, "Then
you and… Akane… finally took that step?"

He grins at me, then falls serious again. "I donít think you
really understand just what kinda chance youíve got here. You can
make a whole new start… you donít have to let the past keep dragginí
you down. And I bet talkiní to my wife will help you see that."

Insensitive though it seems, I cannot but feel that Ranma is right.
Though seeing them together will hurt, if she can forgive me as he has,
perhaps I will be able to forgive myself.

Again we fall silent, waiting. And then… the door opens… a
flash of sunlight on black hair as she steps out from the hotel… our
eyes meet.

I must have blinked, for suddenly she is right there, standing beside
our table. That or perhaps she moved with a speed which formerly
was possessed only by the man who is now her husband. Her eyes still
wide in shock, she speaks, hesitantly, disbelievingly.

"Brother?"

Ranma rises, and with the cockiest grin Iíve ever seen in my life, he
slides his arm around her shoulders. "Tatewaki Kuno, may I
introduce my wife. Kodachi Saotome."

Clearly this is my cue to faint. I take it.

Authorís notes: Not much to say about this one, except that the idea
came to me in a dream. Yes, Iíve actually dreamt about writing a
Ranma Ĺ fanfic. Is that sad or what?

As this was so short, I doubt itíll generate any appreciable C&C,
but if for some reason you do want to comment, email me at aondehafka@hotmail.com